


Neighbor

by vintagevalentinexx



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 00:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11909322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagevalentinexx/pseuds/vintagevalentinexx
Summary: You knew nearly everyone who lived in your apartment building, except the mysteriously man who lived in 509.  What you didn't know was how your lives would entangle, and how you would be changed forever because of it.





	Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest “one shot” style fic I’ve ever written, and I have to say I’m damn proud of it. Upon seeing The Defenders last weekend I, like a lot of people were bummed by the lack of Frank Castle goodness, so I decided to give myself my own fix.
> 
> Anyway, please tell me what you think! I know this is a monster of a fic, but I would greatly appreciate the feedback! xx

You were always taught as a child to be kind to your neighbors because they are a part of your community.  When you moved into the building you were currently living in, you made it your mission to get to know most of the people living there with you.  You nearly knew everybody: from the Rios family that lived underneath you that had the daughter who blared her music at all hours of the night ( _Becky, I understand that you’re going through a break up, but I really need to go to sleep, it’s 3am._ ), to little old lady Wilson who lived down the hall from you in the corner unit, who always seemed to forget to let her cats back in from the hallway ( _Mrs. Wilson, Ozzie and Harriet escaped again. I found them trying to get into the garbage chute._ )  Your building was full of a patchwork of different kinds of people and it had been a pleasure to learn everyone’s stories.  

However, one apartment eluded you: apartment 509.  

Apartment 509 had been a mystery to you ever since you moved in, and it didn’t help that you lived so close in 508.  If you had to be honest with yourself it irked you that you nearly knew everyone, scratch that, you had at least introduced yourself to everyone in that damn apartment building except the lodger in 509.  Your literal next door neighbor.  You had caught glimpses of him before, tall and brooding, always seemed to be covered in bruises.   _What the hell did he do for a living?  Maybe I don’t want to know._   You could hear him through the walls sometimes, seemingly talking to himself, other times yelling at his dog.  You had finally gotten to the point where enough was enough and you had made it your personal mission to get to know this mysterious man.

If you knew then what you know now, you would have told past-you to run for the hills, before this stranger sucked you into world, before he bore his way into your heart, before he made your heart ache at the very thought of him.

* * *

You couldn’t be more frustrated.  You had tried nearly everything to get the attention of your next door neighbor. You left a note on his door that you later found crumpled up in the hall.  You asked other people on your floor, and to your dismay they knew very little about him as well.  You had even marched yourself over to his door and knocked, loudly, but you were met with nothing but silence.  You had all but lost hope until you returned home one day seeing Mrs. Wilson struggling to get up the stairs of the stoop to get into the building.  She was carrying what seemed to be a heavy bag of groceries, nearly toppling over.  You made a dash to try and reach her, but before you could, arms linked around her, holding her steady.

“Mrs. Wilson, what did I tell you?  If you need help carrying this stuff up to your place, you just let me know.”

You knew instantly that it was him.  His voice reminded you of smoke, the kind of smoke that permeated a room and stuck to your clothes.  However where that kind of smoke usually was pungent and stale, this one was warmer, and it seemed to wrap itself around you like a blanket on a snowy evening.  It stopped you in your tracks, and you found it hard to process the situation.  Upon finally snapping yourself out of it, you heard Mrs. Wilson chatting with your neighbor.

“Now c’mon Frankie you can’t carry me and the groceries up the stairs at once!  I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“It’s no trouble at all Mrs. Wilson…”

You perked up a little, stepping closer to the pair.

“I could bring the bag up for you Mrs. Wilson, we live on the same floor anyway.”

You did your best to smile, but found it hard to remain composed in the presence of this man.  He was big and carried himself with an air of danger, as if to warn others to stay away.  Whether Mrs. Wilson picked up on that or not you didn’t know.

“Oh thank you, (Y/N)! You are such a dear!!  Frankie have you met, (Y/N)?  With those strange hours you keep I bet you’re on opposite schedules!”

All “Frankie” did was grunt in response as he shoved the bag of groceries into your hands as you followed the pair up the stairs.

“Mrs. Wilson, I don’t know why you live all the way up on the fifth floor, it’s a lot of stairs.”

“Keeps me young, Frankie-boy!  A little exercise and socialization never hurt anybody.  You should try it sometime!”

You couldn’t help but snicker to yourself as she chided him, covering your face when he threw back a sour look at you.  

* * *

You made quick work of putting away Mrs. Wilson’s groceries while “Frankie” seemed to hang around and make sure she was alright, asking her if anything needed to be fixed in her apartment.  As you finished you waved a goodbye to the old woman, making your way out the door, apparently “Frankie” hot on your heels for an awkward walk back to your respective apartments.  The both of you went to your doors, unlocking them as he stopped what he was doing, turning to look at you.

“So you’re my neighbor, huh?”

“It seems to be that way, yes.”

“That you leaving those stupid notes on my door?”

You hid your face, knowing that it was heating up.

“…yeah.”

“Frank.”

“(Y/N).”

All you heard next was the slam of his door, the barking of his dog, and his heavy footfalls.  You shook your head, smiling at the absurdity of it all.  At least you knew his name now.

Frank.

The tall, brooding man in 509.

* * *

You hadn’t seen much of Frank after that incident.  You could hear him shuffling around his place once in a while, and you could definitely hear that dog of his barking its head off at random late hours of the night. You wanted to go next door and talk to him about it, but there was something about him that made you decide otherwise.  There wasn’t really anything overt that made you rethink your confrontation with him, but you couldn’t help but feel there was some kind of underlying element to him that unconsciously made you nervous.

For some reason you gut screamed to you that he was dangerous.

And yet.

Call it cliché or naïve, but there was something in his voice that drew you to him.  Some kind of inner pain, some kind of jaded view on the world that tugged at your heart, that made you want to understand just what made him the way he was.  It was maddening, that you were thinking about this man so frequently and you only knew his name.  Why were you so engrossed?  You tried to shake him from your thoughts, chalking it up to the novelty of how you met him.

However, life always has a way of getting what it wants.

Mrs. Wilson’s cats were, in all truth, a pain in the ass.  They were always finding new and exciting ways of giving the old woman the slip, and you were nearly certain that they devised ways to irritate you.  Today you were fed up.

For the past ten minutes or so you had heard loud meowing coming from the hallway.  Rolling your eyes, and knowing exactly what duo of furry jerks it was, you continued on with straightening up your house.  That was, until you heard a loud, rumbling bark. You froze, wondering what kind of dog could make such a resounding noise, realizing that the cats, albeit how very annoying they were, might be in some kind of trouble.  Deciding that you’d rather not see a cat massacre in the hallway you wrench your door open, seeing a massive black dog cornering Ozzie and Harriet.  You approached slowly, but as you got closer the dog whipped its head around, growling at you.   _This dog is definitely big enough to take my ass out.  What the hell am I supposed to do?_   Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continued to approach slowly, palms out, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.  The dog continued to growl, ears pricked as it stared you down.  You were about to call it quits when you heard a booming voice behind you, nearly making you jump out of your own skin.

“Sit!”

The dog immediately obeyed, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest as you watched your neighbor grab the dog by his scruff and pull him away from you.

“I don’t even know how the hell you got out, you damn dog!”

Taking this break in the chaos, you approached the cats huddled in the corner, noticing that Ozzie was throwing up a lot.  You picked both of them up, bringing them back to Mrs. Wilson, who was now standing in her doorway, watching the scene unfold.  She looked at you knowingly, a mirthful smile on her lips as you handed over her cats, instructing her to watch them, to make sure that Ozzie’s condition didn’t get any worse, and if it did to let you know so you could help her take him to the vet.  She nodded, seeming to look past you, the smirk never leaving her mouth.

“I think someone is waiting to talk to you, dear.”

You turned around, seeing Frank still in the hallway, holding his dog by the collar.

Slowly approaching, you heard Mrs. Wilson’s door click behind you.  You looked at him, getting a real good look this time.  He was certainly handsome.  Not conventionally so, but handsome nonetheless.  His eyes seemed as though they could see through you, see down to your deepest, darkest secrets, and yet you had a feeling that if given the chance they could be kind.  His face was punctuated by his crooked nose, and you wondered, given that it appeared as though he had two black eyes, if his nose had been on the receiving end of a few punches.  He pulled his dog toward you and you instinctively backed up, remembering how aggressive he was toward you already.

“He’s a good dog. Seems he was just protectin’ those cats…why…I have no idea.”

Feeling a bit safer, you crouched down, nearly taken to the ground as the dog leapt at you, slobbering all over your face as if to apologize.  You broke out into giggles as you scratched behind his ears, hearing the loud thumping of his wagging tail.  Frank seemed to think that was enough as he pulled him off of you.  He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“What a shitty guard dog.”

“What’s his name?”

You seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours.

“Max.”

“That’s a great name.”

“Yeah…sorry…’bout all that.”

You waved it off, making for your door, smiling over your shoulder.

“No biggie!”

“You shouldn’t run head first into dangerous situations.”

Well that certainly made you stop.

“What?”

“If you had gotten any closer, Max would have probably snapped at you.  You should be more careful…”

_Oh._

“I’ll try to be more careful, Frank.”

As you sat on your couch you couldn’t help but think back to that conversation.   _Why would he care?  Why would he want you to be careful?_   You didn’t even know him that well.  He seemed nice enough, but there was still something that seemed…off. It was as if it was just lingering under the surface of who he was.  You had a nagging feeling in the back of your head that it was menacing, and yet you wanted to know more about him.  What you didn’t know was how soon you were going to find out why you were having so much apprehension.

* * *

It was only a few days later when your entire world was turned upside down.

You plopped yourself on the couch, work had kicked your ass all day long.  You had planned to spend the rest of your evening curled up with a book, trying to unwind from the stressful day you had.  You were just about to finish up a chapter when you heard the pounding on your door.  It sounded urgent so you ran to the peephole, terrified as you saw Frank covered in blood. You pulled the door open and he pushed past you, yelling at you to shut the door and lock it as he went around your apartment, making sure the windows were locked and covered.  You stormed over to him.

“What the HELL is going on?!?”

His hand went to your mouth as the both of you heard loud footsteps barreling down the hallway, hearing his door being kicked in.  With wild eyes you looked to him, trying to silently question as to what was happening, but he just looked forward, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he heard the intruders tearing up his place.  It seemed as though they couldn’t find what they were looking for, and the both of you heard them walking toward your door.  You motioned for him to go hide in your bathroom.  He shook his head vehemently but you continued to insist until he finally relented, shutting the door, but leaving a sliver of it open so he could watch the interaction.  

That’s when you heard the knocking on your door.

You looked through your peephole, seeing two rough looking men, trying their best to do their “nice guy” impression.  You spoke through the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh yes Ma’am.  We were wondering if you saw a man, dark hair, dark eyes, about 5’10”, probably wearing all black.”

You bit your lip. “Can’t say that I have.  I’ve been here all night and haven’t heard from anyone.”

“You sure Ma’am?”

_Shit.  Think of something to say to make them leave._

“Are you guys cops?”

You watched through the peephole as that instantly made them nervous, nearly sighing with relief as you watched and heard them flounder.  

“Uhh…we’re uh…. _concerned parties_.  Thank you for your time.”

You heard their footsteps finally retreat down the stairs as you leaned against the door, your blood pumping in your ears.  Frank emerged from the bathroom, looking as though he went through a meat grinder. He tried to move past you to leave your apartment but you blocked his path.

“Explain.”

“You don’t want to know, sweetheart.”

“Now.”

Running a hand through his hair, his eyes pleading with you.

“Let me check on Max first, then I’ll come back and tell you everything.”

“Why don’t you bring him over here, and a fresh change of clothes.  Your door is definitely messed up for the night and it’s clearly not safe.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“And I swear to God if you’re not back here in 15 minutes I’m dragging your ass back over here.”

He smirked, and even through the blood and muck, he was still handsome.

* * *

Setting out some fresh towels and finding your first aid kit, you waited, adrenaline racing through you as you anticipated Frank’s return.  He was good to his word, bringing over everything that you told him to, and before he could even say another word, you pointed to the shower, nearly pushing him in there yourself.  You set on getting Max settled, smiling a little as you watched him sniff around curiously at your apartment.  Nearly twenty minutes later you heard the water shut off, Frank emerging from your bathroom, steam surround him as he exited.  You showed him where your washing machine was; there was no way in hell you were touching all those blood stained clothes.  After making him sit down, and to his disapproval, cleaning his cuts and scrapes, you asked him again.

“Explain.”

He quirked his eyebrows, trying to think of a way to phrase what he was about to tell you.  

“So…those guys were after you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m assuming they’re bad guys…?”

“Yeah.”

You put your head in your hands, sighing deeply.

“So what…like…you fight them or something…?”

“Or something.”

You gave him a hard look, trying to press him for more information.

“Look (Y/N).  I barely know you and I don’t want to drag you into this mess.  You don’t deserve that.”

“Kind of already did, Frank.  I might as well hear your explanation.”

“Listen—“

“No, you listen. You come into my apartment, covered in blood, and then these two henchman-looking assholes come looking for you at my door, which I might add, that I covered for you.  So spill it.”

Frank turned to you.

“You ever turn into the news and hear about that guy that took out that crime ring in Hell’s Kitchen? The one they tried to put in jail but couldn’t keep there?  The one you probably read about in the newspaper who lost every God damn thing he had? Everyone he ever cared about? Well sweetheart, you’re looking at him. I kill those sonuva bitches every damn night and I don’t feel bad about it.  That what you wanted to hear?  That you live next door to a killer?”

There wasn’t anything that you could say.  You had read about him, seen him on the news, and now everything your gut had been telling you had come to fruition.  You remember thinking to yourself about what you had thought about this man, about whether his actions were justified, if he had the right to take the lives of those who preyed on the helpless.  But here he was, sitting next to you as you fussed over his cuts and scrapes, letting him hide out in your apartment.  He was also the man who helped little old ladies up to their apartments, and who had a wonderful, goofy dog.  What were you supposed to do?  What do you say to that?  It was obvious that at the very least he wasn’t out to kill you…could you trust him?

“Why did you come to me tonight?”

“You’re the only one who’s at least tried to get to know me.  You’ve got a friendly way about you; I thought you might be able to help.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, much to the confusion of Frank.

“How’s that funny?”

“You told me the other day to not go head first into dangerous situations, and apparently I don’t need to.  They just come charging through my door.”

Frank grunted. “Thanks.  I don’t think I’d be in a good place tonight if it wasn’t for your help.”

You shrugged your shoulders.  “I owed you one.  You did save me from that  _ferocious_  beast the other day.”

You smiled as he rolled his eyes.  “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, (Y/N).”

Looking at the clock, you realized that you were going to be calling out of work, seeing that you would only be getting 3 hours of sleep before you had to get up, and that was something that you definitely didn’t want to do.  

“Beer?”

You patted his leg as you got up, going over to your fridge.

And that was how you met your neighbor, The Punisher.

* * *

This is how life went for a while.  Frank would stop by after you got home from work and you’d make the both of you dinner. You’d talk for a couple of hours before he had to get ready for his…nighttime activities.  It was certainly not normal, but it was definitely welcome.  It was nice to have company; someone that you knew would be there to help you unwind after work.  It was especially lovely when he brought Max over, who seemed to be completely over the moon for you, which Frank definitely noticed right away.  There seemed to be a comfortable silence between the both of you, as if that night you took him in and covered for him bonded the both of you together.  If you had to put a label on the relationship you had with Frank, you don’t think you’d be able to.  You certainly weren’t romantically involved, but were you friends?  Did Frank have friends?  You weren’t sure if you even wanted to put a label on what you had with him. Whatever it was, it was certainly refreshing, and you found yourself growing to enjoy his company, enjoy him in your life.  It was comfortable for the moment, and that was enough for you.

Until that one night.

You were sitting on the couch, splitting a pizza with him, just another typical Friday night you spent at home.  Frank looked thoughtful, and you had wondered how someone could look so inquisitively at a slice of pizza.  He turned to you.

“Don’t you ever go out?”

“What?”

“You know what I mean…like go out with your friends or something, grab a couple drinks, dance, hell I don’t know…”

You cradled your beer, taking a sip, letting out a soft sigh.

“I…uh…I used to just keep to myself for the most part.  I kind of like it that way.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m friendly and everyone at work is really nice…it’s just…I don’t know…it’s a lot of work.”

He grunted, taking another swig of beer.  “Trust me sweetheart, I get it.  I’m not exactly Mr. Popular myself…”

Smiling, you clanked your bottle against his, taking another long pull from it.   “At least we have pizza.”

He rolled his eyes, something you had grown fond of.  The both of you ate in silence for a little while longer until he nearly slammed his bottle down on your coffee table, pulling you out of your daydreaming.

“That’s it.”

“That’s what?”

“We’re going out.”

You nearly spit out your beer.  “Um…what?”

“You’re always cooped up in here, you’re going to waste away, become a cat lady or something.”

“Thanks…”

“C’mon.  I’ll be back here in ten.”

He didn’t even give you any room to argue as he walked right out the door, leaving you to roll your eyes this time, giving you just enough time to put the pizza away and grab your purse.

* * *

Well.  This wasn’t exactly what you expected.

This wasn’t the way you were planning on spending your Friday night.  Here you were, in some smoky hellhole of a bar, watching Frank shoot pool.  It seemed as though the other patrons steered clear of the two of you.   _Probably just Frank’s personality skills shining through again._   You were drinking whiskey sours now, on Frank’s insistence ( _Live a little sweetheart!  You’ve been hanging around that old lady way too much; I think you’re turning into her!)_ That promptly earned him a well-deserved shove.  Seeing you perched up on a barstool that he dragged over near the table, he put his cue stick down, making his way over to you.

“Get up.”

“I’m fine thanks.”

“That what I asked you?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, giving him a withering look as you hopped off the stool, rolling your eyes as he motioned you toward the table.  He grabbed another cue off the rack on the wall, handing it to you.

“You ever play 9 ball?”

“I’ve never played, period.”

Frank racked the balls, creating that diamond shape as he explained the game to you, and it seemed simple enough, trying to sink the pool balls into the pockets in order.  All you needed to know is how to count to ten. Easy.

Oh how wrong you were.

Frank went first, breaking, scattering the pool balls all over the table.  He lined up a shot and missed, but you were pretty sure he probably did it on purpose.  It was now your turn.  You walked around the table, trying to hold the cue like you saw people do in movies and before you could shoot you felt Frank come up behind you, fixing the way you held it.

“Before you hurt yourself and others…”

His presence behind you was maddening.  He smelled of gunpowder, whiskey, and leather, and you had just realized that this was the closest he’s ever been to you physically.  You could feel the heat coming off of his body, nearly burning your skin when his arm came down on top of yours to help you line up the shot.  His lips were near your ear and you were absolutely intimidated.  You had no idea how to feel.   _What the hell is wrong with me?  What’s happening?  What am I feeling?_   You weren’t even paying attention anymore as he followed through, helping you make the shot, watching the 1 ball sink into a corner pocket.

“There ya go!  Now you get to try the 2nd one!”

Trying to pull yourself out of whatever the hell that just was, you tried to line yourself up again, just like he showed you.  You pulled the cue back and struck forward, jumping up and down when you saw another ball go into the pocket.

“I did it!  Maybe I’m not so bad at this after all!”

You turned to Frank, who was shaking with silent laughter, nearly doubled over.

“Why are you laughing?! I got the ball in!”

“Yeah you did.  You sunk the cue ball in!  Not exactly the one you were aiming for.”

You pouted as you watched Frank sink the rest of them in like he’d been doing it his entire life, and yet you couldn’t help but let a smile find its way to yours lips as you recalled how handsome he looked when he smiled, the charming way his eyes crinkled as he looked at you.

The both of you must have played at least another 2 or 3 games, and you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so much, had so much  _fun_  with another person.  As he walked you to your door that night, the both of you lingered in the hallway, unsure of how to say goodnight.   _How did you expect this night to end?  Did you want him to kiss you?  What would happen if he kissed you?  Would everything change?_   While you were lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize that Frank had moved closer to you, feeling him brush a piece of hair out of your face.  Your eyes snapped up to his as he looked at you, lips slightly parted.  You never noticed how pink they were, and you wondered what they would feel—

 _Shit_.   _He’s leaning in._

You could feel his breath on your face.  You closed your eyes, your heart about to leap out of your chest, every single nerve in your body alive, on fire.  You waited.

And then it never came.

Opening your eyes you saw him still in front of you, running a hand through his hair, looking at you apologetically.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I have to go…”

He went to his apartment saying nothing else.

You flopped down on your couch.  You had felt heartbreak before, but the pain you were feeling now, being heartbroken over someone that you didn’t even realize you had feelings for, impaled you right through.  It was in that moment that you realized what you had subconsciously wanted with him would probably never come to fruition.

All you could do is sit there as sob after sob wrecked through you, the walls thin, wondering if he was listening to your cries from the other side.

* * *

It had taken you some time to muster up the fortitude to be able to speak to Frank again, and it seemed as though he knew it.  He had given you plenty of space after what you had dubbed “the incident” and you were grateful.  Although you were in so much pain that night, the feeling of rejection almost too much to handle, you understood in hindsight where he was coming from.  He had lost his entire life, lost his wife and his kids to senseless murder, and you knew that you couldn’t stay mad at a still grieving man.  He tried to hide the hurt from you, probably from everyone, but you knew it was there. You couldn’t blame him for that. Besides that, he didn’t owe you anything.  You weren’t dating; he wasn’t your boyfriend, so he didn’t have to show you any kind of affection for that matter.  As much as you continued to tell yourself that, you still had this inkling in the back of your mind.

Why had he leaned in?

Did he want to kiss you? Did he just get cold feet?  It was all so confusing.  

As much as you knew that you should probably talk to Frank about it, you decided to suppress yet another awkward moment in your life and pretend it didn’t happen.  The next time you saw Frank in passing in the hallway, you asked him if he was coming over that evening for dinner, like he used to. He seemed surprised at first, but nodded, probably relieved that you were willing to brush that moment under the rug and continue on with your comfortable companionship.  Everything seemed to go back to normal, until you noticed that you began to see him less and less, and your early evenings together became less and less frequent until they stopped happening at all.  Was it something you said?  Was he just not interested in your…whatever you were, anymore?  What was happening?

You decided to take a walk to clear your mind.  It had been a long time since you really took a stroll around the neighborhood, and it was nice to see all your favorite haunts were still around.  It was then that you realized how much of your time you had spent with Frank, and you wondered if he came to that realization as well.  You walked a couple more blocks, popping in to the coffee shop, thankful that there wasn’t a long line.  When you finally made it to the front, you were greeted by a friendly woman.  

“Can I help you?”

“Hi there—“ You looked at her nametag. “Tesla.  Can I please have a medium chai latte with whipped cream?”

“Sure!  Name?”

“(Y/N).”

You waited patiently for your drink, checking your email on your phone.  As Tesla brought you your order, you placed some money into the tip cup. She thanked you as she handed you your cup.

“Your order at least gave me something to do.  Some broody man just came in and ordered black coffee.  Do you believe that?  Who orders just black coffee at a shop like this?”

As you were about to reply, she continued. “Oh look, Mr. Broody is still here right now.”

Looking over your shoulder, you instantly recognized “Mr. Broody” as Frank, a small smile lingering on your lips, knowing how serious he was about his coffee.  Your face instantly fell however when you noticed he wasn’t alone.  A tall, leggy blonde sat opposite of him and it hit you like a ton of bricks.  This is why he wasn’t hanging around you so much anymore.

He found someone else.

Feeling your eyes water up, you tried to leave the coffee shop as quietly as possible but it was too late.  He had already seen you, and you knew that if you turned around to greet him you’d just start to cry.  You heard him shouting after you as you walked back up the block, not stopping until you made it to your apartment.

Why did it hurt so much?  Why did it hurt to see him with someone else?  Someone who was giving him the emotional company and attention that he once sought from you.  You had thought…maybe at some point down the road he might actually…no.  That was now something that you knew would never come to be. She was everything you weren’t, and clearly everything he wanted.

* * *

It was only about an hour after that near altercation that you heard knocking, no, banging on your door. It was insistent.  You crept toward the door, peeping through the hole to see Frank, by himself, waiting for you to answer.

“C’mon (Y/N), I can see you’re at the peephole!”

You refused to speak, too upset to form words.  He continued to bang on your door.

“Sweetheart, let me in so we can talk!”

Steeling yourself you responded. “I’m just your neighbor, Frank.  Why don’t you go talk to that other woman, she seemed real interested in what you had to say.”

“You’re jealous of Karen?”

It was at that moment that you ripped your door open, now angry.

“Jealous?!  You think I’m jealous?!”

He ushered you into your apartment, shutting the door behind him so the neighbors didn’t start to get over curious.

“Calm down.”

“No I’m not going to calm down!  You lean in to kiss me and then you don’t!  I pretend it never happened and then I think things are okay!  Then you ignore me completely!  And to top it all off, the next time I see you is when you’re with a beautiful blonde clearly having the time of your damn life!”

Frank made to speak but you continued, completely unbothered by whatever he had to say.

“I don’t mind being your neighbor, Frank.  But you need to tell me something right now, and so help me God if you try to beat around the bush I will NEVER speak to you again, and I mean it!”

You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders, basically standing toe to toe with the Punisher of all people, but you weren’t afraid.  You wanted your answer and you were going to get it.

“What am I to you?”

The muscles in his jaw clenched, clearly not used to being spoken to like this, at least not for a long time.  You stared at him, unwavering, waiting for a reply.  He remained silent.

“Damn it Frank!  I  **deserve**  an answer!  If anything in the entire world, you owe me at least that!”

As he remained quiet you moved forward, getting into his personal space.  You raised your hands, balled into fists, and as you were going to pound on his chest, Frank caught your wrists, firmly holding you at bay.

You tried pulling away from his, but his grip was too strong.  You could feel your eyes welling up with tears again as you tried to get away from him.

“What do you want from me?!  Just answer my question and you can be out of my life forever!”

“You think I want to be out of your life?!  You don’t get it at all do you?!  Not a damn bit!”

Holding onto one of your wrists, he threw open your apartment door, pulling you out into the hallway.  He fished his keys out of his pocket with his free hand, getting his door unlocked while you stood there, unable to get out of his grasp.  As he yanked you into his apartment, you realized that this would be the first time you would actually get a glimpse at what it looked like. Frank always came to your place, and it was never really spoken of between the two of you.  He stepped behind you, his hands on your shoulders as you looked around his apartment, filled with guns and empty cans, the entire place a mess, the faint scent of blood and antiseptic in the air.  It was a little bit of a shock, seeing how he lived. You could hear Max barking in a room in the back of the apartment.  You tried to turn around but Frank kept you facing forward.

“This is my life, sweetheart!  This is the life you want to be a part of so damn much!  This!  This is what you want, right!?  You wanted to know what you are to me?!”

He spun you around so face him, hands still bracing your shoulders.

“I hadn’t even thought of another human being after I lost them all.  And then all of a sudden you stumble into my life, and what the hell am I supposed to do?!  All of a sudden I was telling you everything about my entire damn life, and you didn’t run away.  You stayed and listened, and smiled.  That damn smile of yours.  You never asked a damn thing of me.  And you covered for me!  How the hell could I ever drag you into my life, this world that just ends in blood and bullets!  I’m not good for you.  I’m not good for anyone anymore.  You want to know what you are to me, (Y/N)?!  You’re the one good thing in this world that I’m not going to screw up.”

It was hard to speak in that moment.  You wanted to be angry but it was hard when you saw so much pain in his eyes.  You wanted to curse and scream at him but his confession was a shock to your system.  You said the only thing that came to mind.

“B-but what about Kar—“

“Karen?”  He laughed bitterly to himself.  “You think I have something going on with her?  She’s a journalist, (Y/N), she gives me leads.”

You felt the anger seeping out of your body as you stared at the man in front of you.  The man who took out Hell’s Kitchen’s demons nearly every single night, the man who lost everything and made it his personal mission to make sure those responsible paid for their actions, the man who got justice for his family.  But he was also the man who helped little old ladies carry groceries up to their apartment, had a wonderful dog that he begrudgingly cared so much about, a man who was patient and not judgmental, and to an extent, he was kind.  But at the end of the day that’s all he was: a man. He didn’t walk on water and he couldn’t fly.  He was a man, a broken man who was trying to find some kind of semblance, some kind of purpose in his life after the loss of his family.

Frank’s hands fell at his sides and you took that opportunity to step into him, hugging him, probably doing something that no one has done for him in a very long time.  You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but you couldn’t do or say anything else.  The two of you stood there for what seemed like a lifetime until you finally mustered up the courage to speak.

“I want to be in your life Frank.  In any capacity you’ll allow me to be.  I won’t lie, I wish you would have kissed me that night, and if I were to dream I would wish that someday, somewhere down the line there could be something between us. I know you feel it, because I certainly do.  But for right now, I’m willing to be your neighbor, your friend, confidant, whatever you want to call it.  I just...please don’t erase me, please don’t remove me from your life.”

You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, knowing the lump in his throat was just as big as yours.  If there was ever going to be anything between the two of you, you knew that it wouldn’t happen overnight; it was going to be a very long time until he was ready for anything like that, especially a romantic relationship, but as you looked up at him, he seemed as though he was willing to at least hear you out.

“Would you like to come over?  I can put some coffee on...”

“You make shit coffee.”

If anyone else had said that to you, you would have been offended, but you could hear the slight hint of playfulness in his voice, and you were relieved to know that he wasn’t mad at you either, and that everything between the both of you could remain as it was. The main difference being that everything was out in the open now, and just knowing that he knew how you felt about him, and how he felt about you made you feel lighter, and made you feel as though there was a goal that the both of you were striving for, willing to fight for, willing to try your damndest to attain.  You took his hand, leading him out of his apartment, going back to yours.  He found his spot on your couch and you set to making coffee, rolling your eyes at him as he nagged you every thirty seconds about how you were doing it wrong.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his face soon mirroring yours, both of you knowing that in time you would both be where you wanted to be.

**It was certainly a long road ahead of you, but you had both been through worse, and this path had a better reward than any you had descended before.**


End file.
